


Dance Like It Hurts

by handcversbruise



Series: Dance Under Those Lights [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), dance moms - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, M/M, Niall is Niall, and louis is paige, dance moms au, harry is maddie, liam and danielle are brooke and nick in that one dance, loosely based on dance moms, zayn is chloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handcversbruise/pseuds/handcversbruise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles wants to be a dancer, so his mom sends him to the ALDC. OT5 dance AU. Zayn likes ballet, Niall does tap, Liam and Danielle are partners, Louis likes hip hop, and Harry gets to do everything because he's the favorite of the studio.  (And a ballerina princess.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you like it! I'm a ballet dancer so I can assure you accuracy in the ballet, and I'll be verifying other genres I'm less familiar with with others. I just think Harry's a ballerina princess, okay?! [PS I'm super sleepy so excuse any typos, etc]

     For as long as Harry Styles could remember, dance had been his life. There was never a time when he wasn't dancing-- be it in his living room while music blasted from the radio, gracefully uncoordinated movements in tune to the beat, or onstage in a costume, executing well choreographed steps to classical music. Harry had felt the urge to dance all the time, the urge never left, and it was never under control.

     A few embarrassing public dance performances later (like when his mom took him and his sister, Gemma, to buy groceries and Harry insisted on twirling rather than walking, which led to him bumping into people and falling regularly),  his mother had decided that at the tender age of two and a half, he should be put into some sort of dance training, and that's how Harry found himself stepping foot into the Abby Lee Dance Company studio . It wasn't a big studio by any means, a few rooms for different classes or privates to take place, some changing rooms and a costume store. It was a competition studio and Harry was told if he was good enough, he'd get to compete and bring pride to his studio. (He was too young to understand, more drawn to the pretty costumes and sounds of children laughing that echoed through the room, he wanted to run and jump with them).

     He’ll never forget his first day of classes. His mother had been exhausted from work, having to rush from her job to pick up Harry from the daycare center and take him to his class, and was told Harry had been jumping around more than usual that day, telling all his playmates about his upcoming dance class. He had jumped into his mother’s arms, trying to verbally convey his feelings, his desire to go dance, but all that could come out were shrill shrieks and uncontrollable giggles. Sighing loudly, yet smiling and happy to see her son so pleased, Anne put him in the car.

     His smile shone brightly as the two drove away from his daycare, his mother’s words of encouragement flowing in one ear and out the other, excitement taking over his entire being. Harry didn’t know what to expect. He had been told this was a place where he could dance, where he could “express himself” (looking back on it, Harry didn’t know why his teacher thought a two year old would have trouble expressing themselves, then he bites back a laugh and thinks he doesn’t remember a time when Miss Abby talked down to a child.)  The road seemed never ending to the young curly haired boy. He could see his mother staring at him, what he couldn’t interpret as exhaustion then,  mixed with hope filled her eyes. He smiled an even bigger smile and let out a slow, mumbled “wanna dance” as he looked towards the window. A few sternly set rules were explained to him (“you have to wear these clothes, Harry, they’ll make it easier to move”, “you have to listen to the teacher”, “no crying!”) as his mother parked in the small driveway, trees surrounding their perimeter, and he felt himself getting nervous--as nervous as is possible for such a young child.

     Harry’s mom led him into the studio, holding his hand rather than carrying him after he had shrieked and yelled “NO” when she went to lift him in the car, and went to fill out the appropriate paperwork. It was the first day of fall semester classes at ALDC, young and older children milling about in the hallways, screaming to each other about their most recent injury or dance related disaster. Harry looked around, amused grin on his face, as everyone stretched in the hall. He didn’t know if that was dancing, or what exactly to do, and as he disentangled himself from his mother, he simply just walked where he saw others going. He was carrying his small bag full of new clothes he had picked out himself (elegant black shorts and crisp white shirts, disappointed to find out he couldn’t wear the tutus in the other section of the store) when he bumped into three boys standing outside a room that lead into the main classroom.

     “Sowwy” Harry proclaimed quickly, panic rising when he realized he couldn’t see his mom, tears clouding his vision. He wanted to get away and get away quickly. The boys he bumped into were bigger than him and that just made Harry more scared. He turned away from them, losing his balance a bit as he went back the only way he knew in an attempt to find his mom. Suddenly it was as if the crowd had doubled and Harry didn’t know what to do. (The only thing he remembered was the “no crying” rule and Harry really wanted to dance so he wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t.)  

     The rule became hard to obey after Harry let out a small “Mommy?” and received no answer. He felt himself start to shake, a choked sob caught in his throat when he felt a foreign hand on his shoulder. He jumped, no time for a scream to form in his mouth as he was quickly greeted by the boys he had bumped into earlier.

     “Hey, are you okay?” asked the tallest of the boys, a boy with bright, shiny blue eyes like Harry had never seen before. He was dressed in shorts similar to the ones Harry had gotten, Harry assumed he was here to dance as well. The boy kept his arm on Harry’s shoulder, leading him inside a nearby room where there were only boys, which Harry thought was different since in the hallway, girls were everywhere. The other two boys followed Harry and the stranger, both of them wearing different kinds of clothes than Harry. Blue eyed boy number one, since one of the other boys also had blue eyes, had taken Harry to a bench and sat him down.

     “My name’s Louis, this is Niall and Zayn” he said matter of factly, pointing to the other boys. Harry stayed quiet and looked at the ground, with no idea what would happen. But the boys were smiling at him, and if Harry had only looked up he would have seen the concern in their faces. He looked at his feet, setting his bag down on the bench beside him. He didn’t feel like dancing anymore, he wanted to go home.

     “Are you okay?” came another voice, from the boy Louis had called Zayn, and this time Harry did look up. The voice sounded comforting and unsure, like the boy was just as scared of Harry as Harry was of them.

     “Mommy” Harry managed to let out. It came out like a whisper, a prayer of sorts that in the past had always led Harry back to safety, the kind he needed desperately right then.  Zayn walked up to Harry, pushing past Louis to sit beside this new boy and gave him a hug. He smiled at Harry and Harry felt the need to cry fade away  Harry felt embarrassed, he remembered the  ones who came into his daycare crying and how ridiculous it looked, he didn’t want to be one of those kids. Looking into the eyes of this new boy, who had soft brown skin and smelled nice, then facing the other two boys, Harry thought maybe he would be okay.

     He nodded towards them in a verification of his suddenly uplifted mood. Zayn smiled wider at him, his eyes sparkling with pride at having calmed down what he hoped would be a new friend.  

\---------------

     It may have been less than ten minutes but that’s all the time it took for Anne to think the worst had happened to her son. She never meant for Harry to wander off but she should have known better. Going into overdrive, she ran through the small studio, with help from the director of the company herself (a woman named Abby who later would grow to love Harry as if he was her own son) and was soon faced with a sight for sore eyes.

     In the boys dressing room sat Harry with three other boys who seemed to be around his same age, changing into his dance clothes. Wiping away a stray tear, Anne let out a cry for Harry. Her boy turned to face her with such an intense smile that  she felt dizzy.  However this joy was shortlived and interrupted by a loud yell coming from someone beside her.

     “LOUIS! ZAYN! NIALL!” bellowed Abby, her face red with anger as she stepped into the room. The boys whose names weren’t called scrambling to make themselves unknown as the three boys stepped closer to her. There was silence, as if she expected one of the small dancers to make the first step.

     Apparently they knew it too because Louis stepped forward.

     “Y-yes Ms. Abby?” he began, quietly but steady, as if he had done this way too many times. His fringe, Anne noticed, came down to his eyes, and she saw the innocent confidence in his eyes as he braved this frightening authority figure.

     Harry was frozen in his  stance, hands on his hips, brushing against his new clothing. He felt foreign, a stranger in this experience, as Louis began to get yelled at for something that was not his fault, something that Harry had done to get Louis yelled at. Harry didn’t like getting yelled at or when his friends got yelled at.  He thought maybe he should do something but the teacher had already stopped and Louis wasn’t looking at her eyes anymore. Harry hadn’t been paying attention to her, but he caught glimpses of her words like “bad influence,” “unfocused” , and things that made Harry burrow his eyes in sadness towards his new friend.

     He looked at his mom, the person who just ten minutes ago would have made everything okay, and saw nothing comforting. It was a strange feeling and he wanted it to go away. So he got up and walked to Louis, ignoring the glares the other boys in the entire room were giving him.

     “My fault.” Harry drawled out. He stood defensively beside Louis as if that would make this whole situation go away. He’d wandered away from his mom and now he just wanted to dance with his friends. “No yell  Louis.” It was meant to sound strong but came out about two octaves too low for it to hold any strength.

     Harry expected to be yelled at too, for Miss Abby’s voice to thunder throughout the room with Harry’s name in her mouth, followed by vile comments.

     They never came. Abby relaxed her entire stance, dark eyes seemingly glowing lighter when she came to face the youngest boy. In fact, she laughed. She walked around the minimalist decorated room,placing her hand on the nearest peach colored wall, and laughed. Harry saw his mother shift uncomfortably, unsure as to whether or not she should say something, choosing in the end to let the boys settle this with their teacher.

     There wasn’t much to settle after that. Abby gave Harry a pat on the back and an obnoxious “Good boy! Taking responsibility from a young age--that’s what I like to see in children!” and commanded the other children to be ready for class in five minutes.

\-------------

     They didn’t have classes together then.  Louis was five, making him the most advanced of them all, and on the day of Harry’s first lesson (a Monday), Louis had acrobatics dance and hip hop. Niall was three, Zayn was four, but they had both only been dancing for one year which placed them in the same level ballet and jazz classes on Mondays. (Niall hated ballet, but he liked jazz, despite his forte being tap. Said he liked the way his body could dance and make music at the same time.)  Harry had a shorter day than his three new friends, and only had a beginning general jazz/tap/ballet lesson. Zayn, who had kept quiet for most of their time together save for their hug, told him if he learned quickly they might all get to be on the ALDC competition team and perform. Harry wanted to do that, he wanted to get onstage and  show everyone what he could do, even if he didn’t know how to do it yet. Zayn smiled a shy smile at Harry before being called by another boy  and girl(Liam,and Danielle, Harry later found out) and dragged Niall to their lesson.

     Louis left shortly after Niall and Zayn did, wanting to speak to Harry a little bit about what had happened with Miss Abby. He told him that sometimes she got angry and said things that were mean, but that his mother insisted he ignore her, and that if it wasn’t dance related he didn’t have to listen to Miss Abby. Harry thought the way the boy’s eyes looked down made him look sad and like maybe Miss Abby yelled at him a lot. Harry didn’t say anything and Louis stopped talking and left.

     Harry would never forget his first day of dance class, the day he met the people who would become his closest friends in the world, the day he found what he would be doing for the rest of his life.

     But he shouldn’t have been thinking about his first day of dance class five minutes before going onstage, competing for a national title at Hall of Fame Dance Challenge against these same best friends he made 15 years ago.

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets special treatment and stuff happens. Liam does a pretty dance, inspired by Maddie Ziegler's "Reflections" which you can watch on YouTube. If anyone needs me to link to dance term explanations lemme know.

     It took all of six months for Harry to master the basics. After the first two weeks, Anne was cornered by Abby and asked if she had any desire for Harry to take more than just one lesson a week. Abby went on about how Harry had an innate talent for dance, how even his recently turned 3 year old self could find the proper beat in the music, could keep up with kids who had trained for longer than him.

     Anne was shocked. To her, it seemed Harry was no different than the others. She watched from the mezzanine above his classroom as her son learned to soutenu properly (heels touching, arms whipping around to give you more momentum), to hold a passe at a steady angle (“but you don’t rest your foot on your knee, mom, you have to point it and it’s either in front or back!” Harry would demand), and most of all, she watched him focus on something that made him happy.

     So Anne had obliged Abby’s wish for Harry to train harder, hesitantly accepting the tuition discount she was given just because Harry was a boy , hoping nothing but good would come out of this.

\------------------

 

     Louis was never in his classes when he first switched,  but Harry always arrived early enough that the two could sit around and color (or try some writing exercises in Louis’ case, since he was in school already, much to Harry’s awe). Niall and Zayn were overjoyed to learn Harry was moving up to their classes after the school’s spring break. Niall never concentrated in ballet class, often choosing to climb on the barre when the teacher had their back to the class, making the small children burst into laughter. Zayn tried to control his friend, chastising him for “wasting the time of the class”, often making Harry wonder how he could sound just like his mother.

     For Zayn, ballet was his favorite. He enjoyed all the genres he studied (except he was always a bit scared in acrobatics class--he never could properly land his side aerials, hated having to try to master a standing back tuck, with or without someone spotting him. He never understood how Liam could so easily do front aerials and tinsicas, when it took Zayn months to even master a valdez walkover) but he felt the most comfortable in ballet. Zayn would whisper to Harry when they were in the same barre, reminding him to pull up using his stomach muscles and most importantly to pointe his feet! Harry would giggle because of course he wouldn’t forget to point his feet. (That’s the most important rule of dance! Harry would go around yelling to everyone who was within earshot). Harry thought maybe Zayn just wanted to talk to him.  He didn’t mind.

\------------------------

 

     He didn’t know exactly when he started private lessons but he was five years old when the boys found out.  Louis was 7, Liam  was 6, Zayn was 6, and  Niall claimed to be 6 as soon as the month before his birthday approached.

     “I have to go see Ms. Abby now” Harry said in protest of the boys inviting him for ice cream after dance. Niall spun around to face him, a confused look on his face. Liam was quiet (but Liam was always quiet, just not around his friends) before running off, presumably to find Danielle before their partner class began. Zayn wouldn’t look at Harry and that’s when he realized something was wrong.

     “You-what?” spoke Louis after a while. He set down his hip hop sneakers, seemingly unbothered by the fact that they stood in the hallway between studio A and C, Niall tapped his tap shoes in a strange beat, as if to lessen the tension that had suddenly trapped the five boys together.

     Harry took a deep breath, ran his hands threw his messy curls and continued.

     “Yeah, on Thursday nights she and I practice lyrical.” Harry tried to sound like being stared at by everyone wasn’t bothering him, like the fact that a five year old was being given private lessons in an advanced style available only to 7 year olds and up by the director of the company wasn’t a big deal. He looked around nervously, unsure of how his friends would react to hear this. He wondered if any of them ever got private lessons, if Ms. Abby ever told them how far they could go in the world of dance if they worked hard.

     Louis shared a look with Niall and Zayn.  No one smiled.

 

     That’s when the rivalry started.

\--------------------

 

     Harry had never performed onstage before. He was old enough to compete by now, almost six, but he hadn’t been called into auditions. Zayn was called, as were Louis and Niall--but Niall turned it down, saying he wanted to focus on tapping. Liam and Danielle (they came as a pair, a fabulous acro/lyrical/ballroom dancing pair that no one could separate outside the dance studio either) were not only part of the ALDC, but they had a fixed duet, set to be competed at every competition.

 

     Harry felt bad. He wondered what the point of working so hard , going to dance class six days a week was if he couldn’t even dance on a stage. He couldn’t even perform at their end of the year schoolwide showcase since he hadn’t been picked for any routines.  Zayn had two solos for the season, as well as participating in the ALDC competitive junior group team. Louis was also on the team, but his solo status was pending, to be determined by his performance throughout the season. Harry wanted that, he wanted a spot on the team, wanted to make Ms. Abby as proud as she claimed to be after he finished his privates every Tuesday and Thursday.

 

\------------

 

     It’s not that things had changed between the boys when they found out about his extra time at the studio. They were all still friends, Louis and Niall the troublemakers of the group, Zayn the quiet one who sometimes didn’t speak to them for days. Liam with his attention to detail and a focus unlike anyone else’s, who refused to miss class for any reason save him being sick. They made an odd bunch but Harry loved dancing with them.

 

     Yet whenever he walked out of Ms. Abby’s classroom after an hour long private and bumped into Louis, he couldn’t ignore the strange look in his friend’s eyes. In his years at the ALDC, Harry had noticed how the teachers bypassed Louis, never giving him praise for what he did right, constantly yelling at him for any small reason. (Harry pretended not to notice that he never got yelled at, got all his critiques in private, that he sometimes got asked to attend classes with the older kids and to demonstrate. Harry refused to acknowledge the fact that at age 6, he was having turning privates with Gianna, and that he had mastered triple ballet pirouettes. He wouldn’t admit he was being treated differently than anyone else.) Louis--Louis was good. He could hip hop like no other, leaving everyone in their age category wondering where he learned to dougie with such rhythm, his standing back tuck being his signature move, but he didn’t place high enough in his solos to get them regularly and no matter how hard he tried, he was ignored.

     Niall was loud. He loved laughing and eating, often telling jokes or running around the studio, much to the dismay of the staff and some of the parents that sat there watching everyone dance. But for all of his attention seeking habits, he never demanded attention while dancing. That’s not to say he didn’t deserve it though. Watching Niall tap was like watching art come to life. By the time he was five, he had mastered four step sounds, his jump toe turns as well as other turn sequences leaving tappers his age in awe. But he hated competing. He said it made him feel like he was betraying his friends; Harry never thought a trophy could get in the way of his friendships but then he didn’t always have the same mentality as everyone else in the ALDC.

 

\----------------

 

     Liam’s solo was beautiful. It started off slow, the music haunting as Liam stepped into inside pirouettes to the ground. He did his floor work and captivated Harry with the way his body leaned into the lunges, the way his upper body bent forward into his full toe releve, leading into a front sodesha leap, ending the movement with a flowing front developpe. Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Liam gracefully stepped out into a turn sequence of pirouettes from fifth into small a la seconde turns. The way his arms alternated heights added to the illusion of the turn, Harry noticed how Liam seemed to be fully engrossed in this performance, giving it everything he had, yet was full of such relaxation he hadn’t seen in this boy. Liam kept going, his extensions loose yet perfectly executed, as Abby called Harry into the studio. Liam didn’t flinch as his classmate entered, fully engrossed in the dance.

     “Watch him, Harry, watch how he takes the choreography and makes it better than what I wanted.” Abby mutters to him. It was a fascinating experience, seeing Liam dance alone without Danielle. Usually the two didn’t have solos, instead partnered each other. Harry pushed aside the jealousy he felt at not having an opportunity to dance like this, to showcase his hard work (he wouldn’t say talent, he had nothing to prove that he was good) and watched.

     Liam had done a backwards leap to B Plus preparation and leaned into a plie. Harry watches as he took a deep breath before leaping into a beautiful saute arabesque , changing into a coupe half turn, stepping into a perfect front aerial that left Harry and Abby speechless, before slowing down into a front walkover cut to front splits. Abby let out a small “yes!” at Liam nailing the acrobatics moves, and Harry watched the rest of the solo as if in a trance, watching as Liam’s turn sequence effortlessly flowed, nailing several triples and doubles in a row before he stepped into a side aerial and ended the dance laying on his side.

     Liam was out of breath but smiling wide when Abby burst into applause and sent words of praise his way. Harry felt like he was intruding, like he didn’t really know why he was there to see Liam, but he felt like he had learned something from watching his friend. Harry let out a small “Great job, Liam!” and a smile that showed off his dimples before starting to walk ou.

     “Where do you think you’re going, kid?” Abby called out.

     Harry kept walking though in a slower pace, opening his water bottle and looking back to his teacher and friend. He smiled and said,  “home?” and laughed.

     Abby laughed with him and shook her head.

     “No way! Get back here. We’ve got a competition next week and you haven’t learned your solo yet.”

     He stopped walking. Was Abby joking? He couldn’t learn and perfect a dance in a week!

     Liam walked out of the studio, smiling, and gave Harry a pat on the back. He whispered “good luck” before exiting.

 

     Harry was on the team.

\-------------------------

 

     Zayn was up next performing the solo at Nationals. Harry tried not to watch Zayn’s performances. He knew he was good, they both were, but he was upset enough at the way everything had gone recently that he didn’t need to see his competition.

     When had Harry started to think of Zayn as competition anyway? He turned and walked away from the stage as Zayn’s music began.

     He wanted to look back.

     He wanted to do a lot of things.

     He just wasn’t sure winning was one of them.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda goes through a lot of time, but it worked out as well as possible in my opinion. Thanks for Jasmine for reading and being great as always. The Zayn/Harry duet is inspired by Dance Moms "Black Swan" which you can see on YouTube.   
> Sorry this took a while, I went on vacation then I saw the boys live! Let me know what you guys think.

“The second runner up in the elite mini solo division is.....” the announcer took a pause, as if this was the moment everyone in the world was waiting for, as if the auditorium wasn’t half empty and the crowd wasn’t mostly parents.

Harry sat by Zayn and Louis, smiling at them, trying to hide the nervousness that had taken over. He didn’t care very much about winning but he wanted to make Miss Abby proud. They’d spent nearly every day prior to the competition working on his solo, called Daisy Chains. It made Anne giggle every time she saw Harry practicing the acrobatics routine, to see him so overjoyed.

Harry thought he wouldn’t win, not when he was competing against Zayn who had a beautiful musical theatre routine he had been practicing all season, as well as a lyrical ballet number. Anne had told Harry that Miss Abby was being sweet  to him, letting him try out being onstage and had no expectations. Harry didn’t tell her the words Miss Abby told him in private, didn’t tell her how much she wanted him to win, how much she believed in him.  Anne had started helping Abby out around the studio and it seemed to only make Abby like Harry more.

If the other boys and parents noticed, they didn’t say anything.

The announcer yelled, “ZAYN MALIK! From the ALDC!”

The audience cheered, the loudest yell coming from Zayn’s mom, Trisha. Harry clapped loudly for his friend--second place was great, in his opinion. But the joy for his friend was short lived when he heard his own named called.

Harry had won first place.

 

He didn’t stop winning first place after that.

\----------------

 

If you asked Harry, he wouldn’t say he got special treatment. He just really liked dancing. He liked spending every day from three to eight pm dancing, six days a week. He liked his fixed tap private every Friday afternoon, he liked ballet class, he liked jazz, he even liked hip hop. Every single genre of dance came naturally to him--or that’s what Miss Abby said. But he also worked hard.  He deserved how much she corrected him, all the time she spent making sure he got the most out of his classes.

He won every time he performed Daisy Chains and he didn’t often compete against his friends at first. Their birthdays made them fall in a different age category, but Harry was happy about that; he never forgot the look on Zayn’s face when Harry was announced the winner.

Harry would learn new solos every time he had a private lesson. His first competition season was cut short due to his late start; he couldn’t compete at Nationals since he didn’t win a regionals.  He didn’t tell the other boys and about his private lessons  and they never asked. They all remained friends, and as time went on, they became friends outside the studio as well.

 

\--------------------

 

He went to the same school as Zayn, who was a grade ahead with Louis and Liam, and Niall who was in his grade. Danielle was homeschooled and spent a lot of her time at dance auditions, much to the chagrin of Miss Abby.

They competed every weekend. Harry was the only one who had new solos every weekend, each one as intricate and complex as the others.

He started to hear whispers, heard other students and parents talk about the favoritism but he ignored it. He was only eight years old, what did they want him to do?

 

\------------------

 

The fall of his second full competition season, Harry started with a new lyrical solo. It was called “Cry.” It was also the first time Harry and Zayn would compete against each other, other than Harry’s first ever competition.

Harry could not have been more excited if he had tried. The music was moving, and he would need to try his best to convey sadness. (That would be hard, Harry wasn’t sure he had ever been  truly sad in his entire life.)

He found himself practising in the studio, attempting to perfect his compass turns to a la secondes, at all hours of the day. There was so much he had to prove with this dance. He had to prove he could do advanced choreography, act, and above all--he had to win. He didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings but.. he had to do what would make the studio proud.

As he started the jump sequence, a saute to coupe turn and side aerial, Zayn walked into the studio. He tried to be as discreet as possible, walking up to the front of the studio then sitting down. He watched with a concentrated look as Harry nailed his ending fouettes, with a roll to the floor, with such ease that left him feeling more insecure about his solo.

Zayn was known for having the best turns and ballet technique in their competition team but he was getting a little worried; seeing Harry work on his solo only increased that--his choreography was years above his age and the exquisite execution only added to the performance value.

Yet even though Zayn was sure he’d lose (it was hard to win when he only got one half an hour private lesson a week, compared to Harry’s three hours, paired with his extra time with Gianna and Abby, as well as just.. his talent) he was happy for his friend. He could tell how much Harry loved being onstage and how good it looked. He just didn’t like that Miss Abby put Zayn down  (and everyone else, for that matter) to make Harry look better.

Zayn knew Harry got extra attention, better choreography. Zayn knew Harry didn’t ask for that, understood that Harry would have done anything for his friends. He tried not to let the way Miss Abby compared him to Harry influence his friendship with the boy. (“He’s in there working on his solo by himself and you’re out here joking with Louis! That’s why the two of you never win first! You’re supposed to be Jr. Mr. Dance of Pennsylvania, Zayn, but you’re the laziest child I’ve ever had the misfortune of working with!”)

Zayn liked Harry. They danced well together, when Miss Abby let them team up rather than fight for roles in a dance. Zayn liked Harry a lot more than he liked anyone else, even his best friend Louis. It made him nervous.

Out of breath and smiling, Harry walked up to Zayn, arms extended as if to bring the other boy in for a hug. Zayn casually walked away, laughing it off as a joke when in reality Zayn was just in a bad space. Abby’s harsh words had left him wounded and it was (indirectly) Harry’s fault. Harry didn’t notice, giving his friend a full smile, dimples and all.

“So--excited? Your solo looks really good.” Zayn led his friend over to the dressing room, the pale pink walls as comforting as ever. Harry stopped and stared at his friend intently.

He took in Zayn’s tan skin, his dark hair done up in a quiff, he studied how his eyes shone a special way, highlighting the brown specks of color, when he spoke about Harry’s dancing. He knew they were friends, all the boys were, but he knew they resented him. But maybe Zayn wasn’t like that. Maybe Zayn did want him to do well. He wanted to believe that.

“Yeah, yeah I am. Miss Abby thinks I have a good shot at win--” Harry started to say before catching Zayn’s hurt look. They never spoke about this which Harry found a little weird. Zayn looked away from the younger boy as if he wasn’t able to hide his displeasure anymore.

They gathered their dance clothes in silence, Zayn trying not to look over at Harry, trying to stay calm and getting more and more anxious.

Of course Zayn knew Miss Abby told Harry those things, of course Zayn and the boys knew just how much they didn’t matter in the scheme of things, but this casual affirmation that came from Harry (with a smile from him) was too much.

“Zayn?” his friend’s name came out as a whisper, scared and small, He was sitting down now, his curly hair damp with sweat and his eyes still shining with the joy that one feels only after dancing your heart out.

The younger boy walked up to his friend, silence plaguing the room, and grabbed him by the waist. He took Zayn in his arms, squeezing tightly, not caring or noticing that Zayn tensed up rather than returned the sentiment.

“I hope you win.”

Harry let his friend go and left the room.

 

\-------------------------------

 

Zayn didn’t win. Of course he didn’t win. He got second, as was becoming the trend on the rare occasions the two were in the same category. He tried not to let it get to him, focusing instead on turning out more from the hip on his a la secondes, making sure his turns were perfectly on half toe, his feet not dangling or sickled at any point.

Every Monday he would walk into the studio, head hung lower than before, as he heard Miss Abby’s praise for Harry echo throughout the studio. He spent more time with Louis, who got even less positive attention from from their instructor, hoping the day would come when he would get a chance to show off that he deserved the same treatment Harry got.

 

\------------------------------------

When Zayn was 10, things changed. Their studio started to get more nationwide recognition (recognition that Miss Abby would thank Harry for, rather than her older successful dancers that had appeared on television or in professional settings, which made no sense to anyone, especially Louis’ mom Johanna--the only one who was constantly fighting with Abby) which led to more dance opportunities.

All of this sudden attention lead to an increase of Abby’s ego, which led to more attention given to Harry and a decrease in tolerance for anyone not as “fast of a learner” as him.

Zayn was looking forward to their Nationals in Lake Tahoe. He had won regionals, ensuring him a solo spot to perform. Harry was nervous, because Zayn was improving. Zayn had improved, and maybe Miss Abby hadn’t noticed, but their competition team had, and Harry was worried.

He worried because he wasn’t used to losing, wasn’t used to not having crowns on his head (he wasn’t ashamed to admit he wore them and the sashes in his house constantly, smiling to himself, because his winning meant so much to so many people that Harry just wanted to make happy), and while the idea of Zayn winning made Harry happy, him losing wasn’t welcome.

 

Zayn had a solo, Harry had a solo, and the other members  each had a duet. Harry had never had a duet before, so he was excited. His partner was Zayn; the theme was “Black Swan.” The young curly haired boy was cast as the white swan while his dark haired companion was the black swan.

Harry couldn’t stop smiling during their rehearsals. He and Zayn just flowed together, in perfect unison while managing to act like enemies. It wasn’t like Zayn was envious of Harry, he didn’t feel like he was constantly upset at his friend’s success, but it felt a little good to see Harry try to keep up with his pirouettes at the end, to see Harry lay down and have Zayn win the battle, even if the battle was just a two minute dance in a competition.

And maybe it felt a little good to hear Miss Abby tell Harry to stop sickling his feet, that in ballet there’s a right way and a wrong way and he was doing it wrong, to watch Zayn’s arms in the passe section because clearly Harry had never heard of proper port de bras.

Zayn shouldn’t have smiled when he saw Harry looked near tears. He shouldn’t have used the positive praise from Miss Abby on his arabesques and his upper body positioning as motive to want to beat Harry. Zayn wasn’t a greedy or envious person, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t stop smiling when he was asked to leave to studio so Miss Abby could work privately with Harry on his part of the duet to figure out why he was acting like he had never danced before in his life.

 

\---------------

 

Louis and Niall had a duet, a funny acrobatics number that placed fifth overall. Liam and Danielle won their division, and placed third. They were happy, and Zayn and Harry were happy for them, but all they could hear was their teacher yelling about how they didn’t win first (which would have been impossible, considering Zayn and Harry won first, but they weren’t there because they had more to perform.)

 

\------------------------------

 

Forgetting his dance felt like utter failure. Zayn had worked so hard, been so determined to show everyone (maybe himself too) that he was a good dancer. He started off so strong, knocking it out of the park with such grace that surprised even him, when the last 8 count approached and suddenly his mind went blank. He had just nailed his straddle leap, nailed his opening turns, and was dancing perfectly.

It was as if his body stopped moving despite his mind wandering to other steps he could have used to cover up this huge mistake. He felt his face grow hot with anxiety, tears welling up in his eyes and he was stuck.

The stage lights burned into his vision and his chest heaved and he tried not to burst into tears onstage. He managed to move, roll onto the floor and hit an ending pose but he knew it was ruined.

There was no way he’d even place now.

 

Harry may have only been nine years old (nine and a half really, but he wasn’t picky about these things) but he knew the difference between right and wrong. He knew it was good to do homework, help your siblings with things, and to listen to your parents. He wasn’t sure though, if it was bad to be happy that your biggest competition, and one of your closest friends, completely butchered their dance.

Zayn ran backstage crying, yelling Harry’s name. He needed his friend to hold him, tell him everything would be okay. Harry had already performed his routine (one about a young boy with dreams about becoming a Broadway star and moving to Manhattan, and Zayn laughed at how obvious it was that Miss Abby didn’t think anyone could ever amount to anything unless they were Harry Styles) and he held Zayn as tightly as he possibly could. Zayn cried and cried and Harry begged him to stop, whispering that seeing him this sad made him want to cry (while his mind was screaming at him that this basically guaranteed his win, that Zayn forgetting his dance was a good thing for him). Zayn couldn’t stop, not until his mom showed up backstage to lead him into the dressing room.

Harry was full of energy after he got his solo award. He won the entire competition, including a summer dance scholarship to a dance camp in NYC. Abby couldn’t have been prouder and hugged the small boy tight, her tanned face grinning ear to ear.

Louis spent the whole afternoon by Zayn’s side, loudly stating how well he did and how things would have been different for Harry if he had remembered. The boys and Danielle all laughed, not quite sure if that would have been true, but it helped cheer him up.

Harry stayed away from Zayn, choosing to bother Niall by challenging him to an impromptu tapping competition, which Niall could never turn down.

Zayn got a brief lecture from Miss Abby about how he had embarrassed her, how no child had done this to her in years, but that he had danced well and at least attempted to finish. Harry was standing next to her when she said it, her tall frame towering over both boys, dark eye makeup adding even more anger to her looks, but she didn’t insult him--not like always.

 

Zayn hoped next season would be better.

 

\-------------------------------

 

By the time the boys were all in the same category, the 12-15 age division, things in the studio had changed.

Harry had been moved into the senior division tap company and Niall tried not to be jealous. He had appeared in a hip hop music video, an audition which Louis had mysteriously not received an invitation to. He had even been placed as a permanent ballet partner with Perrie, the girl who Zayn had previously done all his ballet work with, and everyone tried not to complain because at least they were all still on the same team and had a fair chance every weekend, but it didn’t always work out that way.

 

As time went on, the boys who weren’t getting as much out of dance as Harry started to want to do other things. Liam and Louis tried out for the soccer team in school, and Niall started to swim. Zayn often wanted to try to improve his singing, another talent he was proud of (and one he kept hidden because he knew Miss Abby got Harry into vocal classes too, and he really didn’t want the competition between the two of them to get worse) but instead he kept going to dance class 5 days a week, kept begging for private lessons and extra classes, kept letting himself go back to the studio where all he was told is that he wasn’t good enough, would never be as good as Harry.

 

So as time went on and the boys left the junior categories, maturing as dancers and as people, more changed than just their routines.

Liam and Danielle started dating to nobody’s surprise. Niall couldn’t stop laughing when the two nervously made their announcement; Liam had his arm nervously around Danielle’s waist, mumbling something about a “crush” when Louis loudly interrupted them, outraged that this wasn’t a wedding invitation.

Harry smiled a slow smile, before saying, “Seriously you guys, we probably figured this would happen before you did. It’s the cutest thing in the world!” Danielle hid behind Liam at that, eliciting a squeal of approval from Louis, and the group went out for ice cream afterwards.

They sat in the booth, loudly discussing everything from their favorite tv shows (“Really Harry--MY LITTLE PONY? Leave, you are embarrassing.” “Shut up, Louis you watch Spanish soap operas and you don’t even speak spanish!”) to their goals for the future, for a second forgetting their strenuous lives as dancers, and being kids.

Harry never felt like he was 12 going on thirteen. He always felt so much older, so tired, but tired in the way that made him just want more out of life. He looked at his friends, looked at how Zayn was smiling but not speaking and he couldn’t help but want to make his friend burst out laughing like everyone else.

The ice cream shop was small but cozy. Off white walls and bright red booths welcomed the boys ever since they were toddlers, too many memories filling the shelves with pictures of regular customers and ice cream sundaes on birthdays. The small bell that was latched on top of the door, signaling to everyone that someone had entered.

It was Harry’s partner Perrie, and everyone’s casual acquaintance, a girl with constantly changing colored hair and friendly blue eyes, but who never quite made enough of an impression on Miss Abby to be put on the team permanently.

She saw the group, flashing them a bright smile before walking over and sitting next to Zayn. They all hung out, sharing ice cream and stories about summer holidays and dance camps. Harry didn’t miss the way Perrie leaned into Zayn, how she paid more attention to him than anyone else, or the shy smiles Zayn sent her way when she wasn’t looking.

Harry wondered when this became more than just dance, but rather his life, his family. He loved it and he didn’t want to ever give it up.

 

As it got darker, everyone’s parents started calling them, everyone getting picked up and going home.

Harry was going home with Niall and Louis. They’d been planning a sleepover for a week and they were all excited to play video games and relax on this rare weekend off.

They went to say goodbye to everyone and noticed Perrie and Zayn off together. Harry wanted to go up to them, find out what they were whispering about, but he didn’t have a chance to when the two broke apart suddenly. Yet the smiles remained on their faces and Harry didn’t miss the way Perrie grabbed Zayn’s hand for a bit before she walked away to meet her mom.

He thought maybe Zayn liked her, like Liam liked Danielle, and he didn’t really know how to respond to all of his friends pairing off together.

Louis smacked him out of his thoughts though, by shoving him and yelling “TAG”, making him laugh because of course Louis would want to play a childish game like that. He half walked half ran after Louis and Niall, missing the look Zayn gave him as he walked away.

\--------------------------

 

By the time Harry was 15, he was burning out. His knees were always aching, he never had a spare moment to do anything other than dance, and he just felt.. tired. He hadn’t grown up exactly like the others, had been pulled out of regular school by eighth grade to be homeschooled so he could focus on dance, never had a girlfriend because all he could think about was dance.

He was tired, not in the way he enjoyed, the way that made him want to cry and sleep for hours at a time. He wanted to be able to skip a Friday class to go see a movie with Zayn and Perrie, or to a soccer game with Niall and Louis without being subjected to hours of lecturing from Miss Abby.

Harry loved Miss Abby, saw her as a second mother of sorts. He went to her when he had problems with dance, but also just in general. He spoke to her about not being able to understand a certain books his home school material had him read, about his future. He could speak to her about everything and he did. But he reached a point where he felt a little used, where the way she spoke to him wasn’t as supportive anymore, and Harry wasn’t sure he could handle being tossed aside and replaced when all he’d ever wanted in his life was to dance to make her happy.

But Harry was realizing that maybe dancing to make her happy wasn’t making him happy anymore. And maybe he wanted something normal in his life, something that didn't revolve around dance. He saw how happy Liam and Danielle were and thought maybe he could have something like that too.

\----------------  
Coming back to present time, Harry pushed aside the memories and watched as Zayn landed a perfect tour to the knee, finishing his technically exquisite solo with perfect grace. 

Zayn was smiling like Harry hadn't seen in weeks and he felt his heart ache with guilt because he was the one who took it away in the first place.

It was his turn now, his time to go onstage and prove to Miss Abby that the break hadn't ruined him, that he wasn't useless or undedicated like she had told him earlier. But he was tired of competing against Zayn, of hurting him, of breaking all the promises he'd made because life wouldn't let him keep them.

Zayn walked past him, hardly sparing him a second glance, when all Harry had done was try to show him how proud he was, because he really did think Zayn was one of the most beautiful dancers he'd ever seen on a stage, and Harry just needed him to know how good he was. 

Zayn ignored him and Harry had never felt so broken in his life.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of Larry happening here! Louis' solo is inspired by Jordyn Jones performance on AUDC (it's a great routine, really, watch it!) Shout out to Jasmine & Harry (not Harry Styles though oop) for reading this as always. It kind of got out of hand, oops. So yeah--just read and comment on it? Thanks!

It wasn’t supposed to become a thing, this whole “hanging out with Louis alone, kinda maybe thinking he’s really cute” thing. Harry’s never even been sure how it started.

  
\---------------------------

Right before the start of his first competition in the 15+ adult category, Harry planned a group trip to a movie, then to go eat afterwards. He didn’t get to see his friends much now that they were all in high school and busy with dance. Harry saw Louis the least. (Miss Abby never failed to point out his absences from school, seemingly unforgiving of the fact that he Louis had been made captain of the soccer team, always eager to bash him. Harry never forgot how she had blamed him for Harry getting lost on his first day of class all those years ago; he always felt the worst when Louis got yelled at.)

  
Liam had to cancel the day of the movie extravaganza, saying Danielle had a family event she had invited him to last minute and that he was really really sorry, but they’d see each other again soon anyway. Harry had sighed -- more than a bit annoyed -- but understood. Niall was the next to back out saying a swim meet had come up. He gave Harry one of his smiles, the kind that no one could ever resist because who could be mad at Niall Horan’s smile, and all was forgiven.

  
Zayn was the most nervous one, not meeting Harry’s eyes when he said he’d already seen the movie with Perrie. (Perrie denied anything going on between them, saying they were just good friends; Harry couldn’t understand why the two just didn’t date, they did everything together. Even Louis complained that she was stealing his best friend. The two just smiled and reassured Louis that he was still Zayn’s favorite, which seemed to placate him.) Harry tried to tell Zayn to just go to dinner instead of completely ditching him. His friend gave him a smile that said “no, sorry” before walking away.

 

So that was how Louis and Harry ended up going to see what Louis described as “a weird French hipster film, really Harry no wonder all of our friends ditched us” alone.

  
Harry tried to have Louis enjoy the movie, leaning over to his friend to whisper translations in his ear only to be met with a stubborn “Harold, I do not care, get away from me.” But both boys were smiling, Harry leaning into Louis’ side, trying to get as close as possible despite the inconveniently placed armrests.

  
It’s hard to pay attention to the movie, Harry found, when your companion is hell bent on getting you kicked out of the theatre. Right as the main character of the movie was sharing a statement of sadness “because you look at me with words, and I look at you with feelings” and Harry was on the verge of tears, Louis gave a loud “yaaawn” and proceeded to dump the large, greasy, bucket of popcorn on Harry’s head.

  
Louis’ laughter echoed through the small theatre, a fond look in his eyes appearing despite several angry threats from older couples. Harry was annoyed though he could hardly contain his laughter; Louis was always pranking people and this hang out was no exception.

  
He got up, grabbing his blazer that stood over the back of his seat, and pulled Louis up by his hand. The two left the theatre unable to walk without stumbling over the stairs and each other, Harry leading them outside. Once they’d left the building and Harry put his blazer back on, he shook his head as hard as possible in what could only be described as a failed attempt to get the popcorn out.  
Louis let out a snort and walked over to him.

  
“Let me,” he said. For a moment they both thought maybe Louis was going to smack him upside the head. Instead he just wiped off the large pieces of popcorn, letting his fingers play with a curl or two occasionally.

  
“Thanks” Harry said with a smile and playful shove, “Although next time you should treat your date better. I’m quite a catch.” His tone was teasing and inviting of more banter, but he couldn’t deny a bit of sadness at the fact that this was not in fact a date.

  
He’d been thinking more and more about what he wanted out of life and how to get it; He had even sat down with Liam and had a not so helpful conversation on how to get a girlfriend. Who knew asking your friend who had met the love of his life at age three would be futile?

Louis brought Harry out of his thoughts with another laugh.

  
“You? A catch? Please, you didn’t even make a move. I’m offended.”

  
Louis’ eyes held an expression Harry couldn’t read, wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but he figured he should just.. go with it. They were just friends, just joking around, his thoughts just distorted due to his recent train of thought.  
“Maybe I was waiting for you to. I prefer to be wooed.”

  
The two were still standing awkwardly outside the movie theatre, the cold air hitting them too hard too fast, until Louis walked over to where Harry was standing, placing himself behind the younger boy until his chin was resting on his shoulder. Harry ignored the weird feeling he got, choosing to direct the conversation elsewhere.

  
“So, should I call my mom? I’m sure she could give you a ride to your house if I asked,” he asked in what he hoped was a smooth transition back to the area of friendly banter he was comfortable with.

  
Louis paused for a second. Harry mentally noted he didn’t know of many times when Louis thought before speaking.

  
“I was just going to call my mom. Earlier she um,” Louis stuttered” she said you could sleep over? If you wanted I mean, yeah.” Louis looked at the ground while kicking his feet. 

Harry furrowed his brow, attempting to interpret Louis’ hesitancy at asking him to stay the night.

  
“Yeah, that sounds great! Let me just text my mom.” He hoped his cheerful reply would let the other boy relax.

\---------------------------

“No, no stop--do it again!” Harry squealed at Louis. They’d started off their sleepover playing video games, somehow ending up in Louis’ basement (or makeshift dance studio depending on the events of the day) imitating their beloved dance teacher.

  
“Everyone watch as Harry floats through the studio,” Louis began, in his best Abby Lee Miller voice, “who cares that he’s not even in this dance or know the choreography? HE DOES IT BETTER THAN YOU EVER WILL!

As he spoke he leapt his way around the room, arms extended above his head perfectly, though his face was scrunched up and his tongue was sticking out.

  
Harry knew the words weren’t meant to scold him or be taken seriously, that Louis was just dealing with the situation by joking, but through his laughter he felt it sting a little.

  
“Oh come off it Louis, you know I wish I could dance like you!” Harry did a few quick chasses over to his friend then tackled him to the ground.

  
He tickled Louis much to the dismay of the older boy, and after a few threats of “if you don’t stop I will cut your hair off in the middle of the night” the attack stopped. It was nice though, laying with Louis. He was just a touchy person and the fact that his best friends let him smother them with physical affection made him happy.

  
Louis was quiet , contemplating his words as if they were something he never expected to hear. He nudged Harry off of him, turning to face the younger boy.

  
“Why would you say that? About--about dance I mean?” Genuine curiosity filled his voice.

  
Harry moved closer to Louis, practically snuggling up to him like a cat, before letting out a low “hmm” as if he was thinking about what to say.

  
“Because I do wish I could dance like you. I wish I could be like you, honestly. You never let Miss Abby’s words get you down. And to be honest, I suck at hip hop.”

  
Harry let out a small giggle when he saw how Louis rolled his eyes at that

.  
“No seriously! I have no swag Louis. Please give me your swag.”

  
“Okay now you’re being a dick. Remove yourself from my person.”

  
Louis feigned annoyance and went to move Harry away but neither boy really wanted to move. The floor in the basement was carpeted and comfortable. Harry liked having space to move about without hitting anyone. He was kind of growing up to be a little awkward. He tried not to think about how hard it was to do acrobatics moves now, how his placement was a little off in ballet class. He briefly thought about how Zayn never looked to be struggling but shut it down. He didn’t need to compare right now.

“So Harry--would you like to watch embarrassing Barbie ballet movies with me and never speak of this night again?”

  
As if he could say no.

The night went on and before the boys knew it, it was 3am and a bag of marshmallows had exploded everywhere.

  
“Harry leave it! I am far too tired to clean, in fact I think it’s illegal to clean right now.” Louis attempted to drag the boy away from the mess, ignoring the cries of “I don’t want to leave a mess, your mom doesn’t deserve to have to clean that up!” and bringing them back upstairs to his room.

  
“I’m tiiiiired Harry” he whined as they set up a sort of camp. Basically Louis just dumped out a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor and told Harry “it is what it is.”

  
“Maybe next time you shouldn’t make a huge mess in your basement before bed, Lewis dear.”

  
“Call me that again and the next mess I make will be me cutting your legs off.”

  
“Such a romantic.”

  
The two boys changed clothes with little awkwardness (it’s a side effect of having been in dance together, Harry thinks, there’s no way you could have a bond with anyone like this outside of dance) before settling back down on Harry’s floor.

Harry got under the makeshift bed, holding out the blanket in case Louis wanted to join him underneath. It wasn’t a thing the boys had done for a long time (although before their adolescence they all shared beds, clothes, food) but maybe tonight would be different.

  
Louis hesitated, the nervous gleam that his eyes had held earlier coming back. He cleared his throat, sliding down next to Harry.

  
“Can I ask you something, Harold?”

  
“Only if you remember that that’s not actually my name.”

  
Louis punched his arm gently. “Shut up.”

  
Harry gave him a smile that showed off his dimples, the kind of smile he knew Louis liked the most.

(He knew how that Louis liked his dimples because a few months ago, after an exceptionally grueling modern dance seminar that ended with Louis walking out and Harry chasing after him -- ignoring the yelling from their teacher -- and just talking. They talked and when Harry asked if there was any way to make him feel better, Louis just told him to smile. So he did.)

“Go on then, ask away.”

  
Louis repositioned himself a little farther away from Harry now.

  
“Um. Do you think.. do you think we can make tonight a date?”

 

\-------------------------

It became a thing after that, a thing with no real rhyme or reason to it.

  
Harry, Louis, Liam, Danielle, Zayn, and Niall kept competing (and winning), the world kept spinning, but Harry felt like everything had changed.

It wasn’t that he was trying to keep the situation with Louis a secret, it was just that he didn’t want anyone to know about it yet.

Louis would wait for him after his tap private on Fridays, always offering to just take him home instead of hanging out. (He always worried Harry was getting too thin, or too stressed. Harry thought it was wonderful how someone could care so much.) Harry never said no though. So Friday nights became a thing. Their thing.

Louis would wait outside after Harry’s solo privates on Tuesdays, often bringing him seaweed or other types of Abby Lee Miller approved snacks. He’d watch Harry from the mezzanine, watch how focused he looked at all times--even during barre warm ups when all he was doing were tondues. Louis was proud of what a successful dancer Harry was, honestly, and if anyone had anything negative to say about Harry, they’d have to answer to him.  
It’s just that, well. It wasn’t exactly fair that Harry had had so many opportunities just handed to him. But he’d never tell him that, and as long as it wasn’t mentioned, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Miss Abby singled Louis out during ballet class about three months after Louis and Harry’s thing had began. Her words were malicious, aiming to cut through any positivity left in the boy about his dance abilities. It wasn’t Louis’ fault that he’d gotten distracted by Harry smiling at him from the other side of the room and missed the beginning of the turn sequence, really it wasn’t.

  
Not that’d he say that out loud, not when all he could hear was “you’ve been the biggest waste of time” and “I wish i’d never let you into my company.” Those were. Well.

  
It was confirmation that he really would have rather heard in private (or never.)

Harry hadn’t meant to ignore Louis after their ballet class, it’s just that he had jazz after and Louis had his hip hop private. He had meant to find Louis and hold him until all the lies Miss Abby had yelled faded away, taking their damage with them.

  
But Louis didn’t know that. No one knew that.

So when Louis asked Liam if he’d seen Harry, Liam answered that he’d seen him leave the studio. It wasn’t a lie entirely. Harry did leave the studio (to call him mom, but neither boy knew that) without so much as a glance Louis’ way after being scolded by Miss Abby.

  
It’s not like Louis knew Harry would come back for him or wanted to be the one to kiss (not that they’d even done that) it better.

Louis left the studio and decided that maybe he wouldn’t come back.

\----------------------------

“Have you seen Louis?” He was nervous about asking Zayn because Zayn was Louis best friend and he was Zayn and Harry may have been a little afraid of him ever since he’d gotten involved with Louis.  
They were in the ballet studio, Niall talking to Liam on the other side of the room, leg extended in front of him on the barre to stretch out his muscles. Zayn was on the floor though, so Harry had to look down at his friend (no, his competition) to keep talking.

  
Zayn stopped bouncing his knees (it was thing they’d been taught since they were 3, to “bounce your knees” while sitting butterfly style as a way to loosen your hips up) and gave Harry a careful look.

 

“Um, didn’t you leave?” maybe Zayn’s voice came out harsher than he meant. Maybe he wasn’t looking at Harry like he’d committed an unforgivable crime, and maybe Harry was making up the looks Liam and Niall had shot him from their corner of the studio.

  
“N-no?” I had jazz earlier, af-after ballet?” Harry didn’t know why he felt like crying, or why he was sort of shaking as he sat down beside Zayn, but he knew he couldn’t look at the other boy, not if he didn’t want to cry.  
Zayn shifted away from him, almost imperceptibly, but enough for Harry to know no one wanted to be around him.

  
“He thinks you left.”

  
That’s all Zayn had to say answer Harry’s question.

\----------------------

Liam had been the first one to ask Harry about the thing. It had been a quiet conversation, no direct questions asked. Harry thinks maybe Liam had planned out something more, a whole “sit down and talk about everything you’re feeling right now” kind of thing, but after the fight (was it a fight? Louis hadn’t even spoken to Harry for two days now) he changed his mind. More or less, Harry admitted that he liked Louis, liked how he made him feel, and that things had been great until that day. Liam nodded but didn’t say anything.

  
Niall was next. It was strange for Harry to discuss his love life (he’d never had one before, wasn’t even sure he had one now) with anyone, but with Niall it was even weirder. He didn’t smile once, didn’t make any jokes. He even offered advice (“go to him, Harry, he really fucking needs a friend right now). It was all too much, really, and while he appreciated it, he really wished his friends hadn’t found out.

Zayn didn’t want to talk to Harry. That much was obvious. Harry had hurt his best friend so it made sense. What didn’t make sense was why he overheard Liam yelling at Zayn for not talking to Louis; Zayn’s reply of “I just didn’t think he’d ever do that to me, Li. It fucking hurts” was even more confusing.

Dance classes had never been awkward before.

\-----------

Louis came back to the ALDC studio three weeks after the ballet class blow out. He cornered Harry in the dressing room, casually yet intimidatingly kicking out every other person in the room, and spouted apologies at him until the only thing Harry could think of doing to shut him up was kiss him.

  
Harry had no idea what he was doing, in all honesty. He’d never expected his first kiss to happen at the studio, with Louis of all people, but things had changed and he wasn’t going to fight against them.  
Louis pulled away first, smiling and looking just so fond of Harry, that the younger boy’s stomach was full of butterflies and he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Louis.

  
“Harry I--”

  
Louis didn’t get to finish that statement. Miss Abby barged into the room and tore the two away from each other.

  
She wasn’t vicious in her yelling this time just stern. She didn’t apologize for her words though the ones she chose to today were full of guidance, meaning to steer Louis back into a more positive mentality. She smiled at him, complimenting him on looking well rested but not out of shape.

  
“Louis, you’ve improved a lot in your jazz. Maybe it’s time you and Harry had a duet.”

 

\-----------------

 

After their first kiss, it was like neither of them could stop. It made things more fun for Harry, when he could sneak in a few soft kisses before his two hour long privates, when Louis held his hand as the group walked out of the studio. Liam, Danielle, Niall, Perrie (not Zayn, Harry pretended not to notice that), and just about everyone else who knew the two were overjoyed at the news of them being officially together.  
It had gone from a thing to something real, and for the first time in forever, Harry had something untainted by dance.

  
\--------------

“Liam, move over”

  
“No Harry no one wants to listen to your music, I would rather eat.”

“Niall, you’d always rather eat”

  
“Shut it Zayn.”

  
“Louis stop trying to push me off the couch!”

 

Hanging out with his best friends didn’t change after Harry and Louis became an official couple. No one bombarded them with annoying questions about their sexualities, no one really seemed to care that two of their best friends were dating. (No one other than Zayn, who wasn’t speaking to them pair of them outside of the dance studio.)

  
They met up at Harry’s house the week before Louis and Harry were scheduled to perform their duet. They’d all been working so hard on their dances (and Louis was busy looking at college information that Harry pretended wasn’t happening) that no one had even tried to make plans. They were used to competing every weekend, but this wasn’t a competition. This was the Abby Lee Miller Dance Company Annual Showcase. There’d be talent scouts there, Broadway casting agents--people who could take their careers to a level outside the reach of Miss Abby.

  
So to say that Louis was nervous about his performance in a style he didn’t usually dance was an understatement.

  
But he was trying to enjoy his time with friends (with his boyfriend) and worry about the rest of his life some other time.

\--------------

The group sat around Harry’s living room, arguing about whether to watch a movie or play video games, no one bothering to seriously consider Harry’s plea of a round of karaoke, when Harry’s phone went off.  
Maybe after 13 years of knowing the boys, he should have known they’d follow him into the other room (it was Miss Abby calling and he didn’t want to upset anyone), maybe he should have been a little quieter or careful (he wouldn’t let himself think that his friends had no right to follow him).

  
What mattered was that Louis had followed him in an attempt to sneak in a kiss when he heard Harry mumbling something that sounded like “no Miss Abby, no one in the dance studio comes before my future. No one is as important.”

\-----------

Things were tense for a while after that. Harry had cried on Niall’s shoulder after the other boys had left (Zayn hadn’t even said goodbye to Harry, just went with Louis after hearing the news) but it hadn’t helped. He had texted Liam three times but received no reply. (“He’s probably just with Danielle, Harry, don’t worry about it.” “They’re never going to speak to me again, are they Niall?”)

  
They were all competitive dancers--except for Niall. (Now Harry could understand why Niall at a young age had decided he’d rather have friends than dance trophies.) They all wanted a career in dance. But there was an unspoken agreement that you didn’t say that outloud. You could criticize yourself all you wanted, but you couldn’t do the same for your teammates. You could hope and dream for yourself, but you never put yourself ahead of anyone else.  
And maybe that’s where their dance training went differently. Harry was pushed to the front of the team, given special (maybe even undeserved? But no one would ever say that to him, no) attention. Miss Abby had tried to instill a sense of superiority in him and though he had tried to not believe her.. he had.

  
It’s just that you weren’t supposed to say it or let your team hear it. And Harry had hurt his teammates and his boyfriend hear it.

\----------------

Louis didn’t go up to Harry at dance the following Monday. There was no one waiting outside his jazz class when it ended; Danielle avoided him completely and Liam barely looked up at him when he murmured a greeting.  
Niall tried his best to be there for him, but even he was a little disappointed. “We all love dance, man, best thing in the world. It’s just not the only thing matters.”  
By the time Thursday rolled around, Harry had stopped talking to anyone at the studio. He wasn’t excited for his last jazz duet practice with Louis (but he was more than excited to talk to Louis for the first time in nearly a week) but the show was on Saturday and there were still some things they needed to get done.

  
(Louis and Harry didn’t dance like Harry and Zayn, they didn’t flow. Louis was always a beat behind on their straddle leaps, Harry always taking too long to finish his turn sequence and missing the cue for their next move. They had different styles, different strengths and they didn’t compliment each other--not like Zayn and Harry.)

Louis was already inside working with James. He was the ALDC’s hip hop teacher, but the whole setting was off to Harry. There was no need for James in a jazz dance, Louis didn’t have any privates scheduled. Still he shrugged off his cover ups and got ready to dance.

  
It turned out to be that Miss Abby had granted Louis a last minute solo to perform at the showcase. Apparently he’d been at the studio double time in the last week and she wanted to reward him.  
His solo was a 90’s hip hop routine and it was exquisite. Harry could see how much fun Louis was having, but also how seriously he was taking this.

  
He realized then, that they were over. He’d done irreparable damage that only hours and hours of dancing (of dancing until it hurt, until nothing else existed in your world but you and the music) could begin to repair. That was the way this would end. (Maybe later he could use the way his heart felt like it would fly out of his chest in a dance.)

\--------------------------------------------

Harry had never thought about what his life would be if he didn’t dance. He wouldn’t know his friends, wouldn’t have as much confidence, and would be confined to a normal life. It’d be boring. He couldn’t imagine a life where that didn’t have any tap shoes (or any of the colorful tutus he bought himself because he could), a life with no Tchaikovsky certainly wasn’t worth living.

  
So when his doctor told him he had to stay off his foot for six weeks, it was as if the Earth stopped moving.

Things had eventually gone back to normal after Harry and Louis broke up. Liam went to Harry’s house which ended up with Niall coming over. Before they knew it, Zayn had showed up with Perrie (“No Niall, still not dating, still not giving you my food.”) and it felt like before. The showcase had gone well, Louis’ solo being the hit of the night.

  
(After the show Louis had told Harry that a scout had invited him to audition for a role in a tv show. They’d spent a little too long hugging goodbye, but that’s what it had been. No hard feelings, just goodbye.)

But then Harry had landed a switch leap badly, put his weight on the outside of the foot and had twisted his ankle. He thought it was nothing so he kept dancing. That was his first mistake.

Letting Zayn take his place at the studio was the second.

\-----------------------------------

 

He heard the announcer call his name, so he shook off the memory of Louis and him, the memories of last year out of his mind. His name was called, it was time step out on stage for the first time in three months.  
He took his position, a simple B plus, and looked to the side. He hoped Zayn would be watching, encouraging him from the sidelines even if they were fighting.

  
He wasn’t.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every end is just a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY HAVE NO EXCUSE FOR HOW LATE AND HOW SHORT THIS IS OH MY GOD I'M SORRY?????  
> AnywaY it's DONE and I'm already working on the next part oh my god I'm half asleep just HERE I'M SO SORRY.

“He still likes you, y’know.”

 

Quite frankly, Liam had the worst timing in the entire fucking world. All the reminiscing about the past, his childhood, about Louis and his dance injury - all it’d done was distract Harry when he needed to focus the most. He’d stepped out knowing he’d win if he “did what he was trained to do” only to find that the second the music started playing, his mind blanked. He’d ran offstage, unable to hold back the tears as he shoved past Zayn (a smirking Zayn at that) and ran through the halls of the high school where the competition was held. He ran until he found Louis, sobs wracking his body, and the only thing he could think was of how he’d disappointed Ms. Abby, his mom, and himself. Harry felt like maybe he’d never be happy again. Louis said that was dramatic of him.

Needless to say he’d hid from Ms. Abby in the dressing room because he already knew what she’d tell him, what she’d been screaming at him ever since he’d come back from his two month doctor prescribed dance break. If Harry were to be honest, that time had been great, stress free and full of fun. But he couldn’t just stay away from dance, not really. So he’d eventually dragged himself away from his bed and his video games and into the Abby Lee Dance Company.

Only things weren’t like they’d been before he left.

There was no special treatment. He’d been bumped from front and center in the routines to left back, was no longer called on to demonstrate for other students, even his private solo time was cut down to an hour rather than two.

(Okay so maybe it’d make Harry look bad to admit but he liked being the favorite, liked the way his name was always on the tip of Abby’s tongue, almost like being Harry Styles automatically meant success.)

Things were weird. And part of the reason was because all of a sudden Zayn was all buddy buddy with their instructor, getting auditions to ballet companies in New York and even a role in a music video. He’d been given a ballet pas de deux with Perrie and in order to make room for it, Ms. Abby had taken away Harry’s solo.

So like - it sucked.

Of course it was punishment for daring to take time off, to even consider that maybe he wouldn’t always want to dance (which is ridiculous, but). Harry still didn’t like it. And if maybe he’d asked Ms. Abby if he could audition against Zayn to see who’d perform in the summer Nationals, essentially planting doubt in her head that Zayn could lead her team to victory by himself, then, well. It’s show business.

 

Only Zayn wasn’t supposed to find out that Harry was behind it.

They were called into the studio for group practice only then Gianna led Zayn to another room, apparently to learn a new solo. James did the same with Harry. Both boys got half an hour to learn the solo, except Harry already knew a bit of it, having learned it the week before his injury.

Abby barged into his room with Zayn at her side, and Harry fell out of his fouettes, causing himself to cringe.

“Bad technique, Harry, fix that up!” Abby screamed. Harry scrunched his nose up like a bunny in reply. Her face softened and she smiled.

Zayn stood next to Harry, giving him a small bump on his hip followed by a smile (one he so rarely sees directed at him, the kind with Zayn’s tongue pressed against his teeth), and Harry beamed. Part of him then felt guilty that he’d been hoping for so long to get his status as the favorite back, especially when Zayn worked so hard, struggled so much and was just as good as he was (not that he’d ever told him that..) because they were friends, despite it all. Zayn may have had Louis, and Liam had Niall and Danielle, but they all had each other, were five boys bound together by their unconditional love of dance, and maybe Niall was right when he said dance wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

Unfortunately during his epiphany, he’d failed to hear Ms. Abby tell Zayn that both of them were now competing against each other for a spot at Nationals.

And well - Zayn probably wasn’t too pleased, if the way he clenched his jaw and balled his fists up were any indication.

If life were fair, Zayn would have held a chance. Harry bobbled on most of his turns, dropped his arms one too many times, but he shook it off and poured his heart out into the dance, utilizing his plie every step of the way. He rushed through the dance, hurrying to complete every movement while not following any of them through, curls sticking to his forehead from overexertion as his body went through the motions. If were fair, then Zayn would’ve picked up the routine quickly, adjusted to the more difficult choreography of the dance which had so obviously been made for Harry to dance, would have nailed the switch leap and front aerials - steps so different from the usual ones found in his routines. His turns were perfect, nailing triples with turned out knees and high arches, but there was something just lacking in comparison to Harry or so Ms. Abby said.

Zayn stormed out of the room, tears stinging his eyes, head bowed as Abby yelled a trail of corrections at him.

Harry should have felt better, but seeing his friend so sad made him feel awful. (But not bad enough to have him give up his solo.)

Two days later, Louis told Ms. Abby that he’d given Zayn his spot. He got lectured for twenty five minutes, during which their teacher questioned whether or not Louis even had any talent, but he’d simply smiled at her when she was done, a firm, “Are you quite finished?” the only thing he said in response.

It was an act of friendship Harry never would have considered.

“Wanna come with me to get some food, Harry?” Louis nudged him, sticking his tongue out in an utterly ridiculous way that had Harry laughing for ages after the fact. He wanted to go, partly because he was starving, partly because he was kind of sick of the studio after five hours of straight dancing, but if he left there’d be hell to pay.

“Rain check? Just gotta get my solo down.”

Louis’ smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he hugged Harry goodbye and went on his way.

  
  


None of it mattered now, honestly, not when Harry sat on the floor backstage, awaiting the wrath of Abby Lee Miller and the smug knowing looks of Zayn Malik, and really what even was Liam talking about?

Harry looked up at his friend, confusion written all over his face.

“I don’t care, Liam.”

Liam withdrew at that, hurt showing in his eyes. Usually Harry would be the first to hug his friend but -

“You can tell him if he likes me to tell me himself, because I’m not really into playing these games. I like him too.”

And with that Harry got up and walked away, leaving a stunned and silent Liam behind.

 

***

 

Zayn won the entire competition and Harry was labelled a disgrace and failure. He went home with Louis and cried the whole night.

 

***

 

After Zayn had found out Harry tried to take away his dance, things with the group were weird. Louis sided with Harry, and Harry spent a lot of time thinking about what Liam said, and if Louis really did still like him. Niall chose no sides, often serving as a sort of mediator for when things between Liam and Louis got a little heated, both of them at each other’s throats over the whole thing.

During Harry’s absence at the company, Zayn had done nothing but smile and joke around, coming out of his shell in a way that he never had before, only to be thrown back into the shadows upon Harry’s return.

 

***

 

Louis and Zayn graduated high school that summer and Harry pretended not to care. Liam changed studios after Nationals, explaining to the entire company that he was focusing on his studies and competitive dancing was too much for him. Niall gave no explanation, just stopped showing up, ignored the boys phone calls and visits to his house.

 

Harry was sixteen years old, an award winning dancer, with no friends and a not quite fully healed foot.

 

He’d had a particularly difficult first day of homeschool when he opened his Facebook page to find two messages from Liam sent earlier that afternoon.

 

“You know I didn’t mean Louis, right? That day at Nationals?” Two minutes later.  “I meant Zayn.”

 

And well - He hadn’t seen that coming.

  
  
  
  



End file.
